For my sighing cometh before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like the waters.

When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long.

We roar all like bears, and mourn sore like doves: we look for judgment, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far off from us.

{To the chief Musician upon Aijeleth Shahar, A Psalm of David.} My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring? O my God, I cry in the daytime, but thou hearest not; and in the night season, and am not silent.

I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation.